


A way to be remembered

by LaMalefix



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 02:23:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaMalefix/pseuds/LaMalefix
Summary: He just wanted to stay home, today.Stay in bed until late in the morning, have a late breakfast on the balcony or maybe in the bedroom, without actually going out from under the sheets and then return to rub against Magnus without any qualms. Nothing more. Maybe, at a certain time of the day, move on the couch, the head resting on the Warlock’s legs, his hair stroked with that unmistakable expertise of his fingers, while, more than watching a movie, they looked at each other. Their voices light, their hands a little less, busy exploring their respective bodies.But no, Shadowhunters can’t have a day off.The global balance depends on them.





	A way to be remembered

**Author's Note:**

> So... I am in a very inspired time, and while I was working on Afterglow... This came in my mind. (This and 3 other stories that may or may not see the light)

 

 

 

 

> #####  _Itaque sic ordinandus est dies omnis tamquam cogat agmen et consummet atque expleat vitam._  
>  Lucius Annaeus Seneca  
> 
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _[Hence, every day ought to be regulated as if it closed the series, as if it rounded out and completed our existence.  
>  Lucius Annaeus Seneca]_  
> 

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He just wanted to stay home, today.

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Stay in bed until late in the morning, have a late breakfast on the balcony or maybe in the bedroom, without actually going out from under the sheets and then return to rub against Magnus without any qualms. Nothing more. Maybe, at a certain time of the day, move on the couch, the head resting on the Warlock’s legs, his hair stroked with that unmistakable expertise of his fingers, while, more than watching a movie, they looked at each other. Their voices light, their hands a little less, busy exploring their respective bodies.

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He didn’t ask for anything else, Alec. He just wanted to stay home today. He had to stay home today.

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At one point he understood it, in relationships it doesn’t take only a certain amount of effort but also a small but very healthy dose of selfishness.

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And perhaps he understood it late, one like him ready to bend over backwards for everyone, had never considered selfishness. But it’s crucial, especially when your time as well as being divided between home and work, is also further divided between your children and your husband (not counting the cumbersome presence of your parabatai or your a-little-too noisy family, acquired relatives included).

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And one morning, suddenly, he realized that sleeping beside Magnus wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to blow a kiss in his hair before getting out of bed and dressing in a hurry to get at work on time. He wanted more time, he wants more time. Because in the end, he is a fixed-term.

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It all started with an extremely tiny gesture: the light caresses on that caramel skin, that kiss of goodbye in the early morning, no longer couldn’t be whispered and almost impalpable like the touch of a feather. And so, so he began to press the kisses more passionately, chaining them all over his face, and while stroking his back he held him tightly against him, only for the pure enjoyment of seeing Magnus open one eye and then the another, the look veiled by sleep, that little smile that curled his lips to gradually become more open. In the morning, the two little energy guzzler monsters sleep like stones, more deeply than they do at night, and so it was that right time when they could linger a little more between them. Those looks, those hands, legs intertwined under the sheets.

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And that was only a small step, then, from lingering a bit in bed to make what little they had on fly away and get late to work. As if Alec had ever really arrived late at work. At most, and it had happened only once, he had arrived ten minutes late (simply because Magnus had made his boxers disappear, all his boxers just to keep him a little more at home). Here it is. It had become a habit.

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However, even though those tiny bits of time actually gave him and that certain Lightwood between his legs a certain satisfaction, certainly spending a whole day without the kids and the rest of the noisy brigade that he loved to call family, well it was an all different kettle of fish.

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And he has a reason, a good unassailable reason to goofing around on these mornings, and try to carve more time with him.

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More time.

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He just wants more time.

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Alec has worked hard to free himself, today, he did his best to carry on with the work, to do things that needed his attention in the days before (even if this meant being late at work and going home and finding a Magnus not particularly inclined to hear reasons), he has even convinced Maryse to take care of the two kids from the night before to return them the next morning. Not that it was that necessary to convince her with some kind of fancy circumlocution.

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And even last night he was late, to finish his work, and Magnus was busy with a customer out of town and they found themselves in bed, both exhausted and needed a snap of fingers and the cheerful flicker of his magic to get rid of those clothes and, even before the magic had disappeared altogether, in that blue and volatile smoke, they were both sunk in the most welcoming sleep.

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And so, yes, he just wanted to stay home today. Wake up calmly, blow some light kisses on Magnus’ caramel skin without having to ask for his attention, bullying him. Make love slowly, taking all the time without having to keep their voice low so as not to wake the kids or hurry because, hell, those two have a damn light sleep. He wanted to be guzzling in bed and maybe they could even have breakfast in the bedroom. And then take another ride between the sheets and maybe sleep a little longer.

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Naturally, however, the Nephilim biological clock is a huge pain in the ass and, at five and ten in the morning he was already awake. And he had begun staring at Magnus as if he were waiting for the revelation of the year as, perhaps, he had looked at him while he waited for his blessed "I do". Again, that small and healthy selfishness made him move his hand, made him cup Magnus’ cheek while his nose rubbed on his in a eskimo kiss. The Warlock had snorted something very similar to "Go back to sleep, Shadowhunter" and turned away, to make the small spoon. Alec then, evidently he’d taken it as some sort of invitation, and crushed his husband's back against his chest, tightening the Warlock's hips tightly.

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«Urgh.» he heard him grumble softly. «Don’t make me put you to sleep».

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Alec smiled, then, and buried his face in his husband's hair, saying nothing. It took all his good will not to get his hands under the elastic band of Magnus’ boxers.

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Sleep took him away shortly, thereafter.

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Here, this was what he wanted, stay home today. Is it asking too much?

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Yes, maybe yes.

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One like him, one who does his job and almost always has his hands soiled with fetid ichor and blood can’t sit still.

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They woke up late, yes, that was in the plans. They took a shower, which perhaps Alec would have liked to prolong again and again, light kisses on the skin beaded with water, panting that echoed under the pouring jet, husky moaning.

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With the towel tied at their waist, they ate fleeting breakfast. No balcony, no bed, just chewing some waffle on the sofa while something, like the news, murmured on television. They chatted about everything and nothing, the hands that, no, really couldn’t stay away from their flesh, exposed under that towel.

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And maybe it was the first time they were so quiet in the morning after a long time.

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A part of him, the extremely judgmental one that psychoanalysts would call Super-Ego, was judging him being an horrible person who, just to be alone with his husband, was ready to leave his own kids with their grandmother and shut all the problems out of their house door. And maybe, yes, maybe he was a bad bad person. But in fact today he didn’t have to care.

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He had plans for tonight, plans he has been carrying out for the past few weeks. Take him out to dinner and buy him a nice bunch of flowers, maybe red tulips, on the way to that fancy restaurant he loves. Eat plenty and don’t allow him to take care of the bill. Take a walk back home, then, and maybe stop at that diner that stays open all night, order two slices of cake and eat it with taste even if more than stuffed. Because, maybe Magnus doesn’t even remember, but tomorrow is an important anniversary and, yes, given that at the Institute there will be those bad guys of the Clave delegates, it's better to celebrate today.

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Having a whole day for them can’t be that bad, right? The global balance doesn’t certainly depend on him, right?

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So yes, he had to stay home and carry on the plan he had kept secret even from his looky-lou sister (who would have squeaked in joy and would certainly have stretched her hands on his ideas to do something bigger, more pompous, and so little personal).

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He wanted to stay home and maybe go back to bed, undo the towel from his hips and resume to spring on the mattress.

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But no, Shadowhunters can’t have a day off.

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The global balance depends on them.

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Yet he just wanted a little more time.

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Now it's cold.

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A cold that is perhaps only in his head, under his skin and isn’t really in the air.

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Or maybe it's really cold, and he left the house without heavy clothes.

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Magnus may have told him he had to cover himself a little more.

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Magnus didn’t say anything, he just put his hands in place and just puffed, when the anti-demon sensor began to whistle impudently and that message appeared flying in the apartment. An emergency. There is always an emergency. He may or may not have said something very similar to "Go kill your demons, Shadowhunter".

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Alec muttered something, something he doesn’t remember now. But he promised, and this keeps repeating it in his head, he promised that he would come back for dinner, and that they would go to that fancy restaurant he likes so much. He booked it weeks and weeks in advance to get just that table that he likes, on the terrace from which you can see all Brooklyn.

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But then he was late. And when he called to warn Magnus he only said that he invited Maryse to dinner, so she would bring the kids back and then free her to give her support at the Institute.

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He just had to stay home and now, instead...

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Maybe he cursed, when a really too satisfied Jace had entered his office without knocking and announced that they had finally found that demon nest they had been looking for days. They needed more arms, certainly Clary and Isabelle were not enough to support his parabatai. Simon is back at the Academy and Beatriz would stay at the Institute to check.

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This story that the Angel makes only few ascend must be changed. He remembers to have thought. Or maybe it was something that Magnus said, one of the previous days.

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Yes, maybe Magnus said it and he laughed.

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Jace’s ideas are the classic visions of one who acts before reflecting. And it is only good that next to him leading the Institute there is Clary, otherwise it would take a flash and the Downworld would be organized to subvert the laws of the Clave in New York... and that’s  the best case scenario.

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Jace's ideas are very bad. And maybe that's why they are perfect as parabatai, one thinks and the other acts. Only he didn’t give him the time to think, today, and Alec found himself on a roof of a three or four-story building watching everyone’s back.

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But who watched his back?

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It's cold.

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He is cold.

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And even thinking about something hot doesn’t help it at all.

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It doesn’t help him to think of that short vacation that has been granted so much, to long ago, two days on the beach, the sun-kissed skin and the waves of the sea murmuring in the distance.

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It isn’t enough to think of the dinner that welcomes him every evening, even when it’s late.

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Of the apartment and its heat.

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Of the bed that wraps him with his satin blankets and that hot body next to him.

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Yet, usually Magnus has cold feet and rubs them on his to warm up.

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And he is cold now. And it's the cold of the mind.

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It is the cold of who-

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He doesn’t remember it, not good at least.

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He remembers having shot dozens of arrows to protect his family. Those demons, whose shape he can’t even remember, died like flies but appeared in dozens and dozens, in waves, like bees around the beehive.

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He doesn’t remember it, how it happened.

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He doesn’t remember how or when something hit him abruptly on his chest and made him flinch.

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He broke his bow and soon the arrows he held in his hand weren’t worth, he couldn’t defend himself.

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Another blow and another and then a stronger one pushed him away.

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Away.

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Beyond the railing.

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In the movies, in those thousands of more or less tearful films that Magnus showed him because "God Alexander you can’t have missed it!", "I’m a little sorry for you Nephilim: you are so ignorant about pop culture!". There, in the movies, it’s said that when it is about to happen, your life passes in front of you in a blink of an eye.

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Alec didn’t even have this kind of vision.

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Perhaps because he didn’t give himself the time, and he reacted on impulse and before arriving on the ground, in that handful of seconds, he focused on something else and perhaps managed to activate a couple of runes to stem the damage.

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He didn’t see anything, Alec. He didn’t see anything, and maybe it's better this way.

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Because it would be harder to leave after you see your whole life. And see the people who love you. And you see - you see what you're missing. Joy. Pain. It's all in that blink of an eye. And no, better not.

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And now it's just cold. And yes, he understands why.

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At one point he understood that moving was a bad idea. He tried to stretch his hand to recover the stele, to activate at least irtaze because he sewed at least some tissue, and maybe it's still there somewhere. But it's a bad idea and he could not do anything: a wave of sharp pain ripped his breath away.

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It doesn’t take a genius to understand that maybe it's his time.

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That perhaps he won’t celebrate that anniversary he invented himself. Because they got married in October, and no, we're not in October.

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And he certainly would have preferred to die later with age. Have time to get used to the idea. Have time to say goodbye to Magnus and give him comfort. Greet the kids. Grow older yet.

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To have more time.

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He wanted that, more time with Magnus, that was why he was selfish, so he decided to wake him up in the morning. For this he wanted to celebrate.

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To have more time.

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Give them more time.

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That's why he wanted to stay home today.

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He had to stay home today.

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Shadowhunters must be ready to die. They must be ready. They are ready to die.

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It is a thing of nature.

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It's something they have to do by nature.

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You can’t be afraid of dying if you have to risk your very neck every day.

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Every day can be the last, and perhaps that’s why must live every day as if it were the last.

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However…

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However it's scary to die.

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They are human too, no matter how easy it’s to deny the evidence, they only partially share Angel's blood.

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They are volatile. They are a fixed term.

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They certainly aren’t ineffable. Infallible. Imperishable.

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They are human too.

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And it would be nice. Having an infallible body. Being eternal.

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It would all be so easy.

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And now it's cold.

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And he really had to stay home today.

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Damn Jace and his shitty ideas.

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Or rather...

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Damn him that he chose that hot-head for parabatai.

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Damn him that he can never say no.

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He had to be selfish, he had to tell him he had other plans.

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And maybe Magnus on the phone seemed altered.

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Here, he couldn’t make him happy even on his last day.

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And soon it will be his last breath and he has disappointed him. Again.

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But maybe it's better this way. Maybe it's better if he's pissed off. That maybe will make him hurt a little less.

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Because he's pissed off, right?

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Damn his head, which is clouding.

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Damn his eyes that begin to get lost in that dark and blurred sky.

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And damned the cold.

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Because it's damn cold, and maybe, yes, he's dressed too lightly.

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And it's hard to breathe.

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And the sky seems cold, seems to look at him and judge him. Judge his life and his choices. Judge the fact that he has disappointed Magnus, again. And he just wanted to do something nice for him. Give him other memories.

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But the sky stares at him dark and gloom. Cold.

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Still, he just wanted to see the stars.

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With all that light pollution, he can’t see the stars. Perhaps he has never really seen them in New York.

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Or maybe only Magnus made him see the stars. And no, we're not talking about things done in bed... not just at least.

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Maybe he tries to smile, maybe he tries to laugh (because this is some innuendo that is fit of Magnus) but a squall of blood mounts in his throat and...

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Yes, maybe his time has come.

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Coughing hurts, but not as expected. He thought it would be worse, in reality. The wave of pain that comes to his head is less intense than expected.

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It doesn’t hurt anything else.

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And it's a little scary.

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Pain, sometimes, is reassuring.

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He just wanted to stay home today.

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It wasn’t in the plans to die. It wasn’t in the plans to die like this.

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And now it's cold and can’t even breathe. And it doesn’t have his stele, he can’t even activate some heat rune.

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And maybe he's sleepy.

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Yes, he is sleepy.

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And maybe it's just a nightmare.

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Maybe he's in bed with Magnus and, in fact, he doesn’t feel pain. He feels nothing but the cold.

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Magnus must have stolen the blankets.

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Again.

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Yes, yes.

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Of course it is so.

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It must be a dream.

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It should hurt more, right?

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Dying hurts, right?

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«Alec».

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Something, something calls him. A voice. And it's not the voice he wanted to hear. So it seems like a good option to ignore it.

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But the voice continues. «Alec».

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And another voice joins the first. «Alec».

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What a nuisance. He was just falling asleep.

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«Alec! Fuck... Izzy we found him!».

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The voice, the first voice, is insistent, noisy. It rebounds in his skull and makes his eyes close even more.

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And something in his head reminds him that he does know someone so noisy. It’s his parabatai.

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He would like to turn around, Alec, on his side and hide his head under the pillow, sink his face into Magnus' shoulders and sleep.

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It's early, he wants to sleep a little more.

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And he wants Magnus.

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He just wants Magnus.

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«By the Angel!».

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Now there is another voice, a third, a more humble, feminine. Which seems to be torn from a subtle and acute sob. It's Izzy.

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«We must bring him to the Institute!».

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And maybe he should point out to his parabatai that it's not a good idea. But luckily there is Izzy there, which will make him think.

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«We can’t move it».

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«But he’s breathing, right?» it’s the second voice to speak, this time, another female voice, it must be Clary. «Damn! It doesn’t look so good…».

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Alec, if he had the strength, would have rolled his eyes, in a more then eloquent "Really?", but it’s all rather confused as he’s wrapped in a thick fog bank and at the same time sunk under water, the voices are getting more and more muffled.

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«Yeah. The rune is still in place. And it hurts like hell. He's alive, yes... but I don’t know how long, we really need-».

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The words, the voices are confused in his head. They rebound and still seem only an indistinct and distant murmur.

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He feels someone's fingers on his face. Like a caress and for a moment he just wants to sleep again, but then, then...

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«Ma'us?» that escapes his lips without the thought having even crossed his mind. Or maybe he was already thinking of him. Yes, he’s always thinking of him.

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A sigh of relief seems to come from all three bystanders, but then it is only a voice that reaches his ears. «No, it's Izzy. Can you open your eyes? Can you do it for me, Alec?» his sister asks quietly.

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And Alec has never disappointed her. Never in his life. He doesn’t want to do it, not today. It takes all the strength he has. All the determination that has remained in his body. But in the end he manages to open his eyelids.

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And it's dark, and the sky is still cold and blurry above him. There are three figures in the periphery of his field of vision. All three against the light.

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Or maybe he sees them against the light.

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Maybe he doesn’t see well.

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Maybe he hit his head.

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Yup.

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Surely he hit his head.

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He fell, right?

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«Hey.» he mutters and snatches his sister a flinch.

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«Does it hurt you?» she asks.

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And maybe he has to say no. Because it’s the truth and it doesn’t hurt. Anything hurts. He doesn’t feel anything, he just feels cold.

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But perhaps he must answer yes. Because maybe it's the right answer. Maybe that's what she wants to hear.

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«Alec?» his sister says again to call his attention.

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«Magnus?» he repeats and this time the letters aren’t curling up on his tongue.

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«Now Clary opens a portal and goes to pick him up.» she jabbers. «He certainly manages to get you right in a flash... but not-».

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«He's... Pissed off.» he grumbles, realizing that the alley is dark, and smells like urine and he shouldn’t be there. This was what he was thinking about before everything got confused, right? He was thinking  about the fact that he disappointed Magnus and he just had to stay home. «A lot... I’d say».

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«What?» someone splutters. Jace.

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«I think... I think we had a fight. Yes. We had a fight. Maybe.» he would like to assent, but here it is again the sudden twinge of pain that takes his breath away. «It hurts, yes».

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And the pain is so reassuring.

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«We can’t move you Alec. I think you have a lot of broken bones,» Iz murmurs. «So now Clary... Clary? Open a portal and go get Magnus».

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«No. We had a fight. I don’t want to. He...» he mutters.

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«Did you fight?» repeats the other woman's voice. Clary.

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«No. Yes. Yes. No. Maybe... maybe we had a fight.» he babbles «I don’t remember. I'm cold».

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Isabelle sighs. And his sister’s sigh is unmistakable, so it must be her, of course. He can’t see well, but he knows his sister, and the sigh came out of clenched teeth and curled nose. Perhaps she is holding back from crying.

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«I had to stay... I had to stay home...» he mumbles. «Why don’t you ever let me stay at home?» he adds, and the words roll over his tongue.

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«Magnus knows it's your job...» Isabelle whispers, fingers in his hair, one hand holding his. «Don’t worry, he won’t be angry. Clary go, hurry up».

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Even his eyes hurt, when he widens them a little, and then is forced to close them because the light that emanates from Clary's portal rune annoys him to death.

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His plans have gone up in smoke altogether.

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He had to take some flowers, take a cake, even if it was too late to have dinner they could spend midnight together, the children in bed...

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Damn.

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«Alec?» his sister calls him again.

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«Anniversary.» he manages to say. «It’s-It’s... our... tomorrow? Or-Or... today? Since tomorrow... tomorrow there are the delegates... I thought I would surprise him ».

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«What?» Isabelle muttered. «You could tell us... we would have organized differently...».

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«Didn’t you two get married in October?» Jace asks.

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Isabelle curses in a low voice, maybe insulting Jace. «Who cares? It may be another anniversary. And anyway you'll have others...».

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«No... yes... others.» he mutters in a confused way. He had to say something, what was it? Why do they always interrupt him? «Work... work is important».

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And maybe Magnus had said the same, before he left the house a couple of hours ago, he told him (like a thousand of time) that it wasn’t a problem that he could go and he would wait him for dinner.

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And then, and then when he told him he would be late, Magnus told him that he saved lives - like everyone else, Alec said - and then he would invite Maryse to dinner for company. To have company and get the kids back.

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Damn it, he ruined everything.

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«Alec, do not worry.» Jace grumbles, and makes him wince. «Damn Clary must hurry...».

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«It's all right, big bro. Jace has already drawn you some healing runes.» she mutters, the most reassuring tone possible. «Right, Jace?».

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«Of course, _iratze_ can’t do much, but at least it can help heal the tissues and reduce pain...» nods his parabatai. « _Amissio_ , for the blood, isn’t it? They will work better, I have drawn them».

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« _Amissio_?» he repeats.

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«Yes, it works, isn’t it? You fell down and got hurt pretty bad, for sure… it’s necessary that the tissues repair themselves and the blood to replenish, right... as for the bones, however, you need a Warlock» Jace sighs. «But they’ll work, I have drawn them, so they are more powerful».

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Maybe he must tell him, that he fucked up. Pretty badly, by the way. He surely panicked and wrote them because this is a matter of protocol: when a Shadowhunter is wounded, the healing runes must be activated. Said and done. Too bad that now he has some broken bones and certainly some internal injuries. And... well, let's say that _amissio_ , filling his blood supply, is filling his lungs with blood. Great. He will suffocate in his blood. What a beautiful end.

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He won’t tell him. He doesn’t believe there will be time, more than the need. If Clary can bring him Magnus, he won’t need it, if he can’t get there, there will be no more time.

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«I'm cold».

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«Jace, _thermis_ , hurry up.» Isabelle orders. And maybe a part of him thanks his sister to be there, to push Jace around .

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The smell of burnt flesh causes Alec's stomach to turn. But that is not the cold that _thermis_ can alleviate. It’s the cold of the mind. It’s the cold of those who die.

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«I'm sorry.» begins his parabatai. «We must fight together».

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«It was a bad idea, yes.» Alec says, sighing. And now his chest hurts. Sighing, breathing, hurts. «I didn’t see how it happened. It was so... so fast, I... it's not your fault...».

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And perhaps he would like to say something else, but the words, the letters, and even the thoughts are rolling up on his tongue.

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And he is sleepy. And he's cold. And no, no. He doesn’t have time.

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There is no time.

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«Alec, Alec! You have to stay awake, okay? You hit your head. You may be concussed…» Isabelle sputters.

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But it's hard to keep his eyes open. It's hard to stay awake.

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He hears the voices of his siblings calling him. Maybe Jace shakes him a little, Isabelle hasn’t even tried to move him. She only holds his hand and he hears her sobbing.

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And he would just like to see Magnus and say goodbye to him.

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To find a way to be remembered.

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Tell him something that can reassure him and ask him for a kiss. Just a kiss.

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One last kiss.

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And entrust to that kiss his last yearning for life.

__

It doesn’t have to be so terrible dying like that.

__

 

__

 

__

A light in the periphery of his field of vision, again, suddenly draws his attention.

__

The inebriating smell of home.

__

It's no longer cold now.

__

Magnus. There is Magnus.

__

He opens his eyes only to see him. They shouldn’t be here, the two of them. They had to stay home. In bed. Indeed, perhaps at this time they still had to be at the diner to finish their slice of cake. Or on the street, hand in hand,  walking towards home. Or maybe, yes, the intertwined legs already in bed, and the kisses, and the hands.

__

«Everything is alright. I'm here, I'm here.» the voice murmurs. His voice.

__

And yes, now it's okay. Whatever happens, it's okay.

__

And he curses his eyes because they don’t let him see Magnus. Because he would like to see it well at least this one last time. But he can discern the blurred outlines, he sees the hair, the profile, and sees his eyes flicker just a little. And then again there is an insistent and blinding light. This time it’s the blue flicker of his magic.

__

He closes his eyes again and this time his eyelids are heavy. He no longer perceives the annoyance of that blue glimmer, which he adores so much, he no longer senses anything. It's just dark.

__

And it's not that cold anymore.

__

 

__

It's just a matter of a moment, or at least that's what he thinks. And suddenly a swarm of blood is in his throat and he has to cough again.

__

«Hey, hey. It's all right, it's normal.» someone tells him. Magnus. It’s Magnus who speaks and upholds his head gently without moving him too much to facilitate the task.

__

The cough triggers a mind-blowing throe that rips the breath.

__

«All right?» muttered someone else in a panic. Jace. «How can you say that everything's fine? Do you think it's normal?!».

__

«What should I say? It’s _amissio_. It continues to produce blood and continues to fill his lungs. He has broken ribs and at least one has pierced a lung. It’s useful, it’s necessary for his recovery, but until I put his bones in place, he will cough up blood.» replies the Warlock, his voice is flat. But it’s like sandpaper. He’s angry.

__

«Alexander can you open your eyes for a moment?» he asks softly.

__

And he executes the order, slowly opens his eyelids and looks for him in the dark.

__

«Mags?» he manages to say and finally he can focus on him. He is always against the light, but he’s there. And he sees only him.

__

And maybe he looks at him, too.

__

«Hey, hello.» he whispers and his voice is velvet again. «You’re hurt pretty badly, eh?».

__

«Yeah.» he murmurs.

__

«It's all right, everything will be fine. I told you. I'm here.» he nods as he gently strokes his hair. «You had to stay home, eh, Shadowhunter?».

__

Alec sighs. «I had to take you out to dinner».

__

«Uh, you had some nice plans for us tonight…» he murmurs softly, he seems happy, somehow.

__

«Yup. Dinner...» he replies. «Walk... cake... sex...».

__

He hears Magnus chewing a laughter. «Well, I see you're thinking straight... and had a nice quiet evening in mind...».

__

«I'm sorry.» he adds.

__

«We are busy people, Alexander... and you save Mundanes’ asses. And your siblings too.» and he feels that he smiles, or at least, the smug tone he has when he smiles and talks about work things that more or less appease him. «Don’t worry, we can go to dinner and fuck a lot as soon as you're better».

__

«Magnus.» he calls again.

__

And now he obviously has his attention because the insistent glimpse of his magic disappears for a moment. «Yes?».

__

«I'm sorry,» he repeats. And maybe his tone is different, or at least he tried to make it sound different. Because he wants to tell him that there is no time, that he wanted more time. He wanted to celebrate the best thing that had happened to him and no, he has no time. They don’t have time.

__

«It's not a problem.» He reiterates. «You've hit your head and I'll have to keep an eye on you, so for now... you just have to be quiet because you have to sleep a little, mh?» he whispers, bending to blow a kiss on his forehead. «That putting your bones in place will hurt you, and when you're awake it's basically torture... I try to be as delicate as possible, it will hurt equally I can’t lie to you but... but then everything will pass, eh? I have to wake you up every quarter of an hour because, okay, you have a hard head but...».

__

«If I don’t wake up...» he begins to say.

__

«Oh, come on, Alexander, if you don’t wake up I'll come and kick you in the ass wherever the Angel takes you in glory, and then bring you back only with the propulsive force of my kicks, have you got it right? I want more time with you.» he replies, Magnus. «And have a little confidence in my magic, you fool Nephilim».

__

His lips are stretched in a grim smile. If he has faith in something and someone, surely that is Magnus and his magic. «I love you».

__

«Oh, I know that. And I love you too,» he replies. «And now let me work my miracles».

__

Alec is silent, and maybe Magnus is reducing his pain, along with irtaze. Maybe he's really putting him to sleep, he's confusing him. Maybe, maybe...

__

The eyes close, then, not that he was seeing  nothing more than blurry forms.

__

And he seems to let himself  give in his sleep. It's hot now. And Magnus is there.

__

But he still hears the voices.

__

He hears Isabelle asking if they have a fight, and he hears him deny it. He hears Jace asking him what kind of anniversary is tomorrow, or maybe today, and he hears him saying that he has nothing marked on the calendar, but that maybe Alec has something in mind.

__

Well, of course, it was a surprise.

__

And then he hears Magnus’ voice  turning to him, calm and soft. His breath on his face. «It will hurt you, even if you sleep... try not to hate me but I have to straighten all the bones».

__

 

__

The pain certainly doesn’t take long to appear.

__

First it is like a jolt, blurred and distant, as if yes, it was happening to him but he was immersed in a kind of jelly. The waves are evidently held back by Magnus’ magic, which seems to absorb all that indistinct pulsation and that continuous lament that mounts in his throat.

__

It hurts, but the pain seems to act in a body that doesn’t belong to him at the moment.

__

But then everything becomes clearer and horribly truer. More bodily. His head is damn bright again and it takes all his good will not to let a breath escape, at first. When the first bone returns to its place with a chilling crunch.

__

And maybe it started from the legs, even from the left astragalus and then climb along the fibula and the tibia. This is the pain he felt immediately. One leg is evidently worse than the other. And he must thank heavens that Magnus is a Warlock and that maybe he managed to activate a couple of runes before reaching the ground or else it would be kind of shredded. Certainly.

__

And he tightens his teeth as hard as he can. And perhaps he squeezes his sister's hand so vigorously that it also makes her suffer.

__

A kneecap, the right, makes a loud pop right in the moment it returns to its place and he takes a deep breath vehemently. The teeth clash together. And the breath breaks in his throat, opposed by the blood that rides in his trachea.

__

Magnus' voice immediately returns to his ears as he gently lifts his head to help him breathe. «Hey, hey,» he whispers softly. «Don’t tighten your jaw so hard, or I'll have to put that in place too. Soon I'll fix your ribs so you'll breathe better, eh? Bear with it a little bit more…».

__

And even just that is enough to make him relax, along with the fingers of his husband that gently caress his scalp. And for a second everything seems more confusing, as if he were again imposing some sort of enchantment, as if trying to make him doze off.

__

And maybe he hears Jace ask him why he didn’t start from those, why he didn’t start from the ribs. And he hears Magnus answer that one, he first had to check his head after such a fall, and then, well if they wanted Alec to walk again he had to deal with the legs and the spine. He keeps tabs on the ribs, and as soon as he has settled the pelvis he will make the ribs return to their place.

__

And he said so in a voice so so cold, so calm, so flat, that looked like the weather report. And not that he was talking about his husband, his husband who now, according to him, looks like a puppet which threads have been cut.

__

He's pissed off, really. But maybe Alec isn’t the object of his anger.

__

In support of this hypothesis that flashed into his clouded mind, there is the fact that he also kept his calm when he asked, a short time later, in a rather candid and quiet way, how Alec had made a four-story flight and had risked killing himself there, in that alley, where the others were while he was being thrown down there.

__

But nobody has the courage to respond to Magnus or, perhaps, Alec is already asleep when the answer comes.

__

 

__

Magnus has evidently impressed even more power in his spell, he is using all the energy he has to make the whole operation less painful.

__

But Alec hears it when Magnus arranges  his pelvis. When the bones screech and return to their place. He feels it when Magnus straightens his left femur and repositions the head of the femur in his quarters. And he squeezes his teeth and eyelids so tightly that he sees tiny golden specks at the corners of his eyes.

__

He holds his breath, but it is clearly a bad idea, because when he has to throw out the air, a horrible pang at his side snatches his breath, and again a tremendous puff of blood mounts in his throat.

__

This time who raises his head doesn’t do it with the same expertise as Magnus, and that person has the rough fingers of a warrior, and the long and tapered of a pianist. But it is still delicate, the movements are measured.

__

But it is only when Magnus arranges the great trochanter of his right leg, that Alec opens his eyes. «Stop. Enough.» he manages to say.

__

«I'm sorry, Alexander.» his husband murmurs, moving closer to him with his face. «I told you it would be painful».

__

«Can you make him sleep more deeply? I do not know... » grumbles Jace.

__

«Not too deeply, the pupils aren’t very reactive, he fell down and hurt his head badly…» he sighs. «Alec if it hurts you I can put you to sleep, but-».

__

«It hurts.» he reiterates.

__

«I know. All right. All right. I'm going to put you sleep, yes?» he stutters. «But you have to promise me to wake up, afterwards, mh?».

__

«Cross on the heart.» he answers closing his eyes.

__

Magnus takes a breath, and seems unhappy with this solution.

__

«Mags?» he mutters, opening his eyes and looking at him, but he still can’t focus on him.

__

«Alec I swear that if you die here today in my arms, I'll take you back, just to kill you.» he growls but his voice trembles «You understand, yes?».

__

«I wake up, yes.» he sighs. «Also because I really want... just...» his half-closed eyes are confusing everything again.

__

 

__

The pain he feels afterwards seems like a distant memory. It creaks and crosses all the spine but finally he breathes better.

__

And then there's a phantom touch, his husband’s light fingers in his hair.

__

His voice seems to come from the other side of the world, confused and darkened as if it were as old as time.

__

He tells him something, something very similar to "You have to wake up, now".

__

But he just can’t open his eyes and lets himself be lulled away by the reassuring warmth of his energy.

__

Magic is a wonderful thing. Magnus is wonderful.

__

This is the only thing that goes through his head.

__

 

__

And yes that’s maybe the last thing that goes through his head.

__

 

__

 

__

 

__

And then he seems to float.

__

It's like being in bed with Magnus. Like being between his soft silky sheets, reaching out and weave their legs together.

__

But then it's like being in the sea. He seems to be immersed in a crystalline emerald sea.

__

Floating in the waves.

__

And then…

__

Going away with the steam.

__

 

__

 

__

 

__

 

__

 

__

 

__

 

__

 

__

 

__

The light that glimmers impudently against his eyelids is annoying.

__

But of course it isn’t a natural light, it’s aseptic light. It’s witch-light. He’s at the Institute.

__

It's cold.

__

Again.

__

And suddenly he realizes that he is back in his body.

__

And no, it doesn’t float in the void. Pain is now present and strong. Prominent.

__

It climbs down his back in waves. It’s like a shiver. Magnus’ magic and _iratze_ have stopped making their effect.

__

Damn.

__

His breath is missing.

__

And when he forces himself to open his eyes, everything is white, in the horribly cold light of the Institute's infirmary.

__

He is alone.

__

There is nobody there.

__

 

__

He didn’t go away. Pain is too real. The witch-light burns his eyes. And the smell of the antiseptic makes him curl his nose.

__

He closes his eyes again and sighs.

__

 

__

Then suddenly a noise. The screech of a chair that moves on the floor, someone approaches him, gently strokes his hair and takes his hand. Softly kisses his knuckles and it is clearly Magnus who does it.

__

Again, the soft flicker of his magic seems weaker than usual. As if advancing under his skin, as fearful and quivering.

__

«I can’t go on like this, Alexander. You have to come back to me, eh?  You promised, remember?» he murmurs slowly, and his voice is trembling slightly. It doesn’t even seem his voice, it seems so kneaded and weak. «I didn’t have to listen to you. I didn’t have to pay any attention to your parabatai. I had to do it my way, even if you would have suffered a lot, now you would be at home with me, and we shouldn’t be here... we shouldn’t be here... I don’t like being here».

__

Alec tries to open his eyes, he really tries, with all the strength he has. He can‘t disappoint him. He came back. He’s there, with him.

__

«Hey, hey!» the voice is what he wanted to hear, how he wanted to hear it. And it comes soft to his ears, now velvety as a caress. «I see you moving your eyes under your eyelids... look at me a little, big head».

__

«'nus?» he manages to say, and perhaps his voice comes out tremendously hoarsely, and his throat is parched.

__

A strangled sigh comes out of his husband's throat. «Yes.» he mumbles and goes out like a gasp, like a strangled sob. «It's me, I'm here. Can you open your eyes, my love?».

__

No, there's no need to ask him.

__

And then he concentrates, as if he should return to his body again, as if he had been detached from his being again. And first he manages to open an eye, and grunts slowly before opening the other. Too much light. There is too much light.

__

Then he sees it, the glimmering and volatile blue flicker of its magic fading the intensity of witch-light. «So grumpy…».

__

«Wa'er».

__

«Sure, leave it to me.» he nods and hears the clink of a glass suddenly appearing.

__

Alec coughs slightly, and sinks his head more on the pillow. It touches the lips with the tongue, and just puffs.

__

«They are chapped, I tried to limit the damage, but...» he sighs. «You've been... for days».

__

«Days?» he manages to say.

__

He hears him swallow, two or three times.

__

He needs to look at him, he must understand. He move his head and beats the eyelids a couple of times before looking at him. It focuses on him right away. His hair is all matted and dull, and he is wearing one of Alec’s old crumpled T-shirt, the one he only keeps for sleeping because they are way too faded for him too. He looks pale, he seems to have his eyes hollowed by deep circles.

__

«Days.» he reiterates and points his eyes on him. For a moment he sees the sharp cat-like pupil vibrate, then soften into an almost dreamy expression. «Hey. Hello big eyes».

__

The smile that turns to him, takes his breath away. Impossibly soft and loving. All his weariness disappeared from his face, as if seeing him awake was enough to refresh him completely.

__

Alec's mouth stretch out in a smile that, if his lips were not so chapped, would certainly be wider. And then he lets another cough escape. «Water, please» he asks softly.

__

«Yes,» Magnus nods and raises his head with one hand while he holds the glass to his mouth with the other. «Slowly, drink slowly».

__

As soon as the glass touches his mouth, his lips burn him like hell and he grunts again.

__

«Ah, wait, wait...» he mutters and helps him rearrange his head on the pillow. «I have an idea.» he smiles and letting a flicker of magic into the glass make a cube of ice appear between his fingers, which he then brings to his lips. «It should help you a little...».

__

The ice gives him relief, yes, and it is easier for him to reason now. He slept for days and Magnus, inexplicably, couldn’t heal his lips. He must have had rather serious damage somewhere else for not having healed anything so tiny (yet so annoying).

__

«What happened?» he asks softly.

__

Magnus grinds his teeth. «Your head, you were badly hurt. Making you sleep was a very bad idea... you had a concussion and _amissio_... didn’t really help... what the hell, you Nephilim use runes that could kill you!» he grumbles and stops with the ice cube in the center of his lips. «Open your mouth and chew a little, that should quench your thirst then I'll give you some water».

__

Alec executes the order without flinching. «It's the protocol.» he grumbles, reluctantly chewing on the ice, which causes a little dizziness to pass.

__

«Your brother has never respected a protocol once in his life and he must do it when your life is on the line of fire?» he mumbles annoyed.

__

«Come on, Mags... it's not his fault...» he stutters.

__

«Ah, no? I do not even want to go into the merits of the mission, Alexander.» he grumbles. «How the hell did he think to leave you alone on a roof? All right, you're a good archer and all, but..».

__

«Mags...» he sighs and lets out another cough.

__

«Come on, take a little sip of water.» he smiles at him, picking up his head again and bringing the glass back to his mouth. «I'm just saying you need someone to watch your back... you're watching everyone’s back, the three of them... I mean one of them could look at your back. This is what parabatai are for, isn’t it?».

__

«Are you pissed?» he grumbles before taking two small sips of water. A hand on Magnus'. And maybe that isn’t a question, that’s a statement.

__

«No. It's your parabatai, and if possible, he was emotionally worse than me... And I couldn’t get so angry since he looked like one of those abandoned puppies on the highway every time I was around.» he sighs and shrugs his shoulders .

__

«I'm sorry.» he sighs.

__

«I knew what I was embarking on by choosing you, do you know?» he smiles.

__

And Alec would like to say more, but maybe this isn’t the right time. He would like to reassure him, get up from that uncomfortable little bed and hug him. Get home and let him forget this bad adventure.

__

«The kids?».

__

He snorts and takes the glass away from him. «With Simon and Clary, the best pair of babysitters I've found. Your mother wanted to be near you...» he hums. «And with your sister and your brother they forced me to leave you alone with them to take a shower and eat something, once in a while. A way not too veiled to tell me that I looked like a rag, and that I stank, I guess...».

__

«You still look like a rag.» he sighs and tries to smile.

__

Magnus smiles. «Thanks, mh?».

__

«You used a lot of magic, eh?» he infers, settling back on his damn uncomfortable bed.

__

«You were really in pieces, you.» he says briefly and his cat's eyes vibrate on him before being swallowed by the chocolate color of his glamor. «But now you're awake...».

__

Alec smiles. «I'm sorry, to have frightened you like this...» he murmurs without languishingly.

__

«Now I have to call the brigade... I'll let them stay here a little bit  while I'm going to powder my nose.» He smiles. «And also to fix my hair, oh my God... I'm not at all fabulous».

__

«You're always wonderful. We should talk about that shirt, though...» Alec murmurs.

__

«Ah, it has your scent and it’s comfy...» he replies. «And then you and I should talk about this anniversary thing. Okay, you had hit your head and maybe you were confused... but...» he snorts and shrugs. «We'll talk about it later, eh? I'll call them, mh?».

__

Alec sighs and picks up his hand and pulls it to him. And perhaps the movement wasn’t such a good idea, but he only realizes it when Magnus collides with his chest. And Alec snorts, a very slight moan, like a grunt. He tugs him close. «Wait up,».

__

«Alexander, you were certainly confused, you don’t need to talk about it... but know that, even if it happened, even if you had really forgotten an anniversary... nothing would have changed, mh? Because I do know you love me, understand?» he smiles and kisses him on the corner of his mouth.

__

Alec shakes his head. «I wasn’t confused... I wanted...» he shakes his head, and clenches his teeth cause even this movement wasn’t an extremely intelligent choice. «It's a stupid thing. It’s just nothing».

__

Magnus looks at him, his eyebrows curled and his forehead wrinkled in a curious grimace. «What do you mean?».

__

Alec looks away, his ears suddenly burn. How? When was this a good idea? Celebrate the first time together. What a shitty idea. And it is incredible that it came before a concussion.

__

«Alexander?» Magnus calls him, and he seems confused. «What kind of...» he begins to say and then sighs a small amused grimace on his face. «Oh. Oh. Ah. Wait wait…».

__

He sighs and looks at him. He would like to say something, glide on the subject, but Magnus looks at him grinning. And as much as he does love that expression, and would like to kiss that sneer away from his face, it annoys him a little. "Magnus..." he mutters and shakes his head slightly.

__

«Our first time together. Naked. In bed.» he grumbles and seems to be holding back his laughter.

__

«Magnus...» he mutters.

__

«I like to celebrate everything, Alexander.» he smiles. «Let's say that I wouldn’t be celebrating that precise anniversary any more, seeing how it went... then, everyone knows it is bad to celebrate the day before...».

__

A half-smile spread over his mouth. And maybe that's okay, it's okay to joke about it, just don’t get on to another question, to that _other_ question.

__

«Why did you want to celebrate that?» he finally whispers.

__

Damn.

__

He had to expect it.

__

It was just a shitty idea. He just had to stay home that day and just tumble between the blankets with him. Nothing more.

__

«Alexander?» he calls him again and looks at him, his brow furrowed, as if trying to probe his mental health. «Everything good?».

__

He sighs and grinds his teeth. «Didn’t you have to call my family?».

__

«They'll wait.» he hisses. «Alec, what's going through your head?».

__

Alec tightens his lips, sighs. He doesn’t like it when Magnus uses that tone, when he calls him that way and not the usual way. Sighs, again. And even this time he runs a cough.

__

«Let me guess, one of those mental trips?» the Warlock grumbles.

__

Alec clenches his jaw and pull a long sigh. «I am a fixed term, Magnus...»

__

And if a few years ago he looked at him with in shock, now he seems to have metabolized the news. There is no way to have more time. He can’t have more time, they can’t have more time. He is a fixed-term, and Magnus will no longer think of him one day. That's okay, or at least it was fine like that. But then came that dose of selfishness in his heart and he thought about giving himself more time, to be remembered a little more.

__

«We'll find a way, Alexander.» he replies softly, a soft smile on his lips.

__

«My way is this: I want to give you positive thoughts, good memories. Celebrate even the smallest trifles because I…» he swallows hard, his eyes burn. «I will leave you. And…».

__

«Are you thinking about it now, or...?».

__

«No…» he says. «We have little time together. With my work we have little time together... and then, we will spend little time together because I will be like a butterfly in your life. In a blink of an eye I won’t be there anymore.» he sighs and closes his eyes.

__

He hears him sniffle, then he snorts. «I told you thousands and thousands of times. You aren’t this for me. You are _that_ person. I have always wanted you and I will always want you. Even when and _if_ you leave me... and I’ll remember everything... I don’t need parties, anniversaries... you make me happy, _always_... I won’t forget you».

__

«It's for me. To be sure that... that you will think of me, every now and then.» he sighs. «And so also to celebrate the bullshit, that the first night together is not really bullshit, I need it, okay? _To be sure._ » he nods.

__

Magnus looks at him, and the cat's eyes that already usually betray all his emotion, are veiled by tears. His lips curl. «I will not forget you. Never... and then it isn’t certain, I could die first, I am immortal but my body isn’t infallible... I could walk in the street and a vase could fall on my head and... zac. Dead.» he says, dropping his head to the side with his tongue out, and then looking at him smiling.

__

A laugh escapes him, and maybe that's what he wanted. «What an idiot».

__

Magnus shrugs and hunts out all the air in his lungs, as if he had been underwater and in apnea until now. «You must promise me that you will not be foolish, that you will be careful... because you still have a lot of time in front of you, we have a lot of time ahead of us and I will find a way to make you stay with me as long as possible... giving you more time or to reduce mine, because I can’t be without you... and this,» stroking his hair slowly, as if afraid of hurting him. «This headshot you gave, this bad adventure made me understand, as if it were needed. For me is enough that you stay with me, even for a short time, the quality of the time we spend together is enough...».

__

Alec snorts and his eyes burn impudent. Maybe that's what he had to understand: just stay with him, carve out some quality time with him and the kids. «Magnus...» he sighs.

__

The Warlock clears his throat and shifts his gaze from him to fix the door. «Now, I'm going to call your family and... I have to think about how to celebrate the anniversary of our first fuck, Alexander...» he mumbles and gets up from his chair. «I mean, I already have some ideas...» he winks and kisses him in his hair. «I leave you with your noisy family...».

__

Alec would like to protest, and not because Magnus is actually part of his noisy family, but because he wants a real kiss, with language and all the rest. But Magnus is already outside the door.

__

And in less than a minute, he finds his mother, Izzy and Jace around, starting to drown him with words.

__

 

__

 

__

 

__

It is morning when Magnus decides to bring him home with a portal. After assessing him with questions to make sure he's completely awake and lucid.

__

They no longer deal with that subject. They no longer face the anniversary story, or his absurd ways of being remembered.

__

Magnus simply leaves him with the kids, watching him play with his children.

__

 

__

And maybe that's it.

__

That's the way to be remembered.

__

 

__

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what do you think about it :D  
> Thanks for reading
> 
> And please let me know if there are some mistakes or misspelling! Thank you


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